


Motor Oil

by Jackeline Harkness (Jackeline_Harkness)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types
Genre: Eyebrows, M/M, Memories, PWP without Porn, motor oil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:52:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackeline_Harkness/pseuds/Jackeline%20Harkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has a lot of memories. And a love for Tony's eyebrows... and the smell of motor oil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Motor Oil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blakefancier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/gifts).



> I don't know, don't throw things at me. I blame Vincent and this bloody post: http://blakefancier.tumblr.com/post/72415539957/dont-use-butter-as-lube-folks-or-blood-or#permalink-notes
> 
> Hope you're happy, blakefancier, you're breaking me :|
> 
> Also, no, I haven't abandoned any of the other fanfics. I promise I'll update them soon!

**Motor oil.**

In that short moment between the security glass door to Tony’s lab sliding open and JARVIS lowering the volume of the violent thing the engineer called music, Steve stopped and, closing his eyes, inhaled deeply.

A lot of people pitied him. It was a simple fact of his life in the 21st century. People looked at him with respect, admiration, awe, lust… and pity. Or sympathy, but at the end of the day, it mostly came down to be the same thing. Even Fury seemed over protective of him in his own way, sending him out to the field but trying to shield him from emotional  and psychological trauma, as if the military was his life and everything else the adventure.

As annoying as he found people treating him with condescendence, most of the time he was able to overlook little things and be tolerant with his situation. Most people, it seemed, didn’t realize that while he’d been Captain America for a very short period of his life, he had been a passionate and subversive dreamer all his life, one with wild theories and a love for fantasy and sci-fi. Therefore, as shocking as it had been to wake up in a future that was so different than the illustrations he’d seen over the covers of books and magazines back in the forties, he was adapting pretty well to his new life.

His bouts of nostalgia were like most people’s. He’d wake up one day craving a burger from the joint on that particular corner of Brooklyn that now housed a huge building full of offices; or he’d see something that one of his old friends would have loved and then only his teammates’ expression told him his smile was sadder than he thought; or there would be some small detail that had remained the exact same as before, and for an instant he could almost believe it had all been a dream.

There was an instant of perfect silence, where there was nothing but the strong scent of motor oil and the not-sound of someone freezing for a moment, followed by the noise of a wrench being put down on a metallic surface.

Most things had changed with time. On appearance, at least. But the scent… that scent remained. Motor oil smelled exactly the same as it had seventy years ago.

“Steve!” the word was the same, even the tone, a mix of surprise and relief and happiness and just a hint of guilt, was almost the exact same, but the voice was… not _wrong_. Never wrong. But it was not the one in his memories. It was different. So were the arms that wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer, and the lips against his. “What did Fury want, aside from showing you off to the Council?”

“It’s not like the whole Council was there.”

“I know. Just that old bulldog and Mrs. Plastic Surgery.”

Steve snorted at Tony’s not-so-off description of the two Council members that had been conducting some kind of inspection on SHIELD.

“That’s supposed to be classified.”

“If they really cared about that, they would at least try with their security systems. _Dummy_ could have broken into their files.”

The bot chirped with glee and made a show of moving an empty plastic box from one currently unused corner of the lab to another.

Steve’s eyes returned to Tony’s face only to find that eyebrow cocked at him.

“What’s up, Cap? Tired?”

“Yeah. Just tired. Never had much patience for authority figures.”

“And…?”

“And what?”

“And what else is bothering you? You don’t pay them that much attention.”

“Nothing is…” and there went that damned eyebrow again, so he just shut his mouth.

“You have that face again. You know”, Tony said, hooking his fingers into his belt loops, “the one that calls for you and me to go upstairs and wear nothing but each other for the next… I don’t know, ten or twelve hours.”

Shaking his head, Steve leaned in to meet Tony halfway for a long, deep kiss.

Steve remembered the kiss as if it had been just a couple of weeks ago. Howard had pulled him down and shoved his tongue into his mouth, and his brain had all but short-circuited. Then, Howard had given him a sly look with a raised brow, cracked up laughing, and moved on to babble about the modifications he was making to his bike while he put the thing together as easily as if it was a peanut butter sandwich. Later, he hadn’t been sure of… anything. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that his mind was still trying to assimilate the fact that apparently all the times he’d caught himself staring at other guys it wasn’t just out of jealousy or admiration, but for all the same reasons he looked at ladies; or maybe because Howard Stark was confusing enough all by himself… in any case, he hadn’t known what the kiss had meant. Were things supposed to be different between them now? Was it Howard’s way to let him know he was interested? Or that he didn’t take him seriously? Or was it simply a nervous reaction? Or an unusual way to wish him luck on the mission ahead? Did he even want it to mean something?

It had been so strange, that by the time he made his way back to his room that night, he wasn’t even sure if it had actually happened or not. Except it had, because there, on his neck, were still the marks of Howard’s oil-stained fingers from how he had grabbed him to pull him into that kiss. He hadn’t washed the marks off until he had to get dressed the next day.

“So…” Tony said breathlessly when they finally broke apart, both feeling like the room had gotten a few degrees hotter in a matter of minutes. “Upstairs?”

“No. Let’s just…” Steve answered, licking his lips and barely managing not to trip on a bunch of wires as they moved together to the big couch Tony kept in the workshop, shedding clothes with every step.

“You sure? I’m all sweaty and…” he made a face, gesturing at himself.

Steve took on his messy hair, stained clothes, and the raccoon-like mask that dust and security goggles had painted on his face. And, god, the smell of him. It was all like a perfect bridge between his past and this craziness that he kept thinking of as the future but was really the present. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“In that case”, he managed to get out as he shifted on his back, giving Steve enough space to fish the lube bottle from under the couch and prepping him, “you have no right to complain if you get grease stains in certain places.” And he wiggled his dirty hands in front of his face.

“Just keep your hands away from… there.”

“What if I don’t? Do I get punished?”

“Yeah, Tony. No cookies for you if you do.”

“It’s so unfair, though”, he rearranged himself on the couch as Steve positioned himself between his legs, and his words melted into inarticulate nonsense against Steve’s lips as the soldier slid into him. Then he cocked an eyebrow at him as Steve took his stained hand and rested it on his shoulder. Usually Steve didn’t like things too messy, but since it was his own fault that he was now stained with motor oil, he wiped his hand on him, not even trying to suppress a grin.

“Hey!”

“Entirely your fault, Captain Hasty!”

Steve shook his head before nipping at Tony’s neck in retaliation.

“No, really!” Tony almost laughed. “It was you who put my hand there, so of course the responsibility of…”

Steve kissed him.

“Shut up, Tony.” And he paid attention, knowing perfectly well that Tony never shut up and what his reaction would be at something he clearly took as a challenge. A smile curved his lips as he got exactly what he expected.

He loved that damned eyebrow.

 


End file.
